Chapter 30: Astolfo

Each of the demon's black-red bat wings extending over two meters long flapped in the air, its wet, blood-red hair whipping in the sea breeze like blood scattered into a lake. Astolfo saw the demon grinning, its forked tongue flicking out, revealing a sinister smile—at least, that's what he thought it looked like. Its scales were like rusty iron stained with blood; its bizarre half-armor was like black thorns; its equally two meters long, deformed tail covered in shells, resembling the forearm of an arthropod or the sharp blade of a Moranth; the sound of its wings flapping reached the silent yet impetuous sea, making Astolfo feel very anxious.

He could barely make the sign of cross over his chest, slowly lifting his head to stare with a pair of beautiful purple-red eyes at the demon descending towards him—that terrifying demon with vertically slit reptilian pupils—he drew a sword with a gold-plated handle from his waist. The sword was engraved with an eagle, the emblem he received when he became a knight.

He solemnly pointed the blade towards the overcast sky, ready to engage in combat with the demon.

"Listen up, demon above! I am the Eagle Knight Astolfo, who has traveled across three continents and experienced countless battlefields! The sword in my hand has tasted the blood of Storm Walkers, severed the claws of the Dobaha people, and torn the bodies of dungeon guard dogs! I have never tasted defeat!" 

His words were delivered neither hurriedly nor slowly, exceptionally solemn, each syllable landing with the force of an axe chopping oak.

He raised his voice, revealing a beautiful smile on his pale, waxy cheeks soaked in water: "—Come down and fight me to the end!"

However, the demon stopped six meters above him, leisurely flapping its wings for a while. Astolfo, too, silently confronted the demon. He didn't say a word, maintaining vigilance, only to notice—the demon slowly shifting its cold gaze towards his back.

After a moment, Astolfo, feeling uncomfortable, moved the fingers gripping his sword to relieve the stiffness in his muscles. He scratched his hair with his other hand, slowly parting his lips. But before Astolfo could utter a word, his speech was interrupted by a massive force.

"—AHH!!"

He let out a scream.

A wave over five meters high crashed over him, slamming him face-down into the sea, like the wrathful slap of a sea giant.

The wave came unexpectedly, or perhaps not entirely unexpectedly.

Given Astolfo's swimming skills, he should have been able to maintain balance in the waves. However, that was only if he hadn't forgotten his situation. As usual, right after Astolfo had fully prepared to fight the demon to the end, things like—where he was, in a dream or in reality; what he had been doing just now, whether he was surviving in the sea or soaking in a bathtub; what was beneath his feet, land or sea; what the weather was like now, stormy or clear—all these things, he completely forgot.

For such a traveler who likes to join in the fun and enjoys adventure everywhere, nothing was more terrifying.

He felt himself rolling in the water, like a pebble sinking into mudslide. The dazzling lightning was like a swinging arc lamp, casting swirling light and shadow into his pupils, making him feel dizzy—or perhaps, it was he who was spinning. The wave carried him at such a rapid speed that his tied-up hair unraveled in the sea, his beautiful pink hair smearing his face. He completely lost his sense of direction, drifting and spinning aimlessly in the sea, not knowing which way was up or down, only the dark, salty liquid gushing into his mouth.

Astolfo clung tightly to the sword in his arms. The waves toyed with his body like a child manipulating a toy.

—I can't lose this!

—But it seems like I am about to lose my life first!

At that moment, the dark red shadow plunged into the sea, stopping in front of him. The demon's face showed no expression, nor did it speak, just silently observing him, as if silently mocking this dramatic scene.

Astolfo, somewhat dazed, stared at the demon.

The demon's face was also blood-red, its hair was like ribbons floating in the water, it is  looking... almost like a human?

The demon slowly swam towards him. He had no strength to make any extra movements, just watching as the demon hoisted him onto its shoulder and flew out of the sea.

The endless tumbling ended, and the gushing seawater stopped filling his mouth. The demon carried him away from the sea, like picking up a broken flower from the water.

This scene was somewhat inconceivable, perhaps precisely because it was a dream that such inconceivable things could happen? Although crazy, it was undeniably real. He turned his face with great difficulty, his blurred vision shifting to the demon—bright eyes looking at him, pupils thin as a needle, and seemingly devoid of emotion.

Ugh! Its face is so close! It's still terrifying!

No.

I shouldn't belittle my savior.

Struggling to suppress the intense heartbeat caused by fear, Astolfo blushed and whispered:

"Mr. Demon, thank you for saving my life."

The demon still seemed indifferent, offering no response.

"...Mr. Demon?"

He reached out, cautiously waving his hand in front of the demon's face, "Should I apologize to you now?"

After a while, Astolfo extended his index finger to poke the part of the demon's face without scales.

"...What are you doing?"

It seemed not much different from a human's face? Astolfo blinked—then he lowered his head, as if deep in serious thought, but after a second, he couldn't help but poke the demon again, saying to it: "Just satisfying my curiosity."

His tone was so matter-of-fact that it was hard for the listener to find a way to refute him.

"...You've never seen a living demon before?"

"Huh? Ah, no, I haven't seen one before, I've only seen them in illustrated books at the library," Astolfo propped his delicate chin with his index finger, then shifted his gaze back to the demon, "By the way, should we do some introductions? Okay? After the introductions, we'll be friends.” He spoke to himself, “I am Astolfo, and I haven't made friends with a demon before, although this is my first time, but I will be very careful in getting along with Mr. Demon.”

"There's no need for that here," Astolfo heard him say, "Let's go to the lighthouse first to meet my..."

"Your what?"

"...My oath...”

"Oath of allegiance?"

"...The Inquisitor I pledged my oath to." His expression looked quite aggrieved.

...

In just a week, the ill-tempered black-robed Inquisitor appeared in an unexpected place, accompanied by an unexpected demon, encountering Astolfo by chance. But this time, they met in a nightmare.

"Who are you? Do we know each other?" Jeanne leaned against the wall freshly cleared of dust, rolling her eyes and talking. Her words were quite straightforward, clearly accustomed to speaking in this tone, "Lady, can you not start with this—'the woman who always wear a sour face'?"

The conversation paused for a moment, and Astolfo recalled when he first saw this woman—at that time, he was wearing full light armor, his face hidden under a helmet. And now...

He glanced down at his clothes—a black silky undershirt and stockings, white high-top boots reaching the curvy part of his calves, a short skirt barely qualifying as a skirt armor, even exposing a small part of his thighs; coupled with the well-tailored female-style long gloves, and his beautiful, wet, disheveled hair...

I swear I only wear women's clothing in private, right!?

"Cough... that..." Astolfo's eyes wandered, his mood as turbulent as the howling storm at sea, "My name is A... E... Effie, yes, Effie, I must have mistaken you for someone else just now."

He turned his face, staring fixedly at the demon beside him—his eyes pleading. He didn't want to expose his private hobby, especially not to such a dangerous and unpredictable ruffian woman.

Yes, a ruffian woman.

Salser watched him for a while, not exposing the lie he used to cover his panic.

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